


Rubbing Salt in His Wounds

by BatmanWhoLaughss



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blind Kanan Jarrus, Depression, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Kanan Jarrus Needs a Hug, Post-Episode: s02e21-22 Twilight of the Apprentice, Protective Hera Syndulla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26900665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatmanWhoLaughss/pseuds/BatmanWhoLaughss
Summary: She can’t take away the pain he’s in. She can’t give him his vision back. But she can hold him, and be there for him through it all. He’s so strong, but right now she can lend her strength to his, for a little while.[Rated T for mild swearing]
Relationships: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Comments: 20
Kudos: 72





	Rubbing Salt in His Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> I am once again bringing you blind!Kanan angst. My boy needs so many hugs.

Kanan hasn’t spoken to anyone in days. Not since they broke the news to him that his sight will never be restored. 

He doesn’t even leave his room, except to use the fresher and to occasionally venture bravely to the galley. He only lets Hera see him when he needs someone to help him change the bandages over his eyes, and then he retreats back into his bunk. He never says anything, but she can see the pain written all over his face all the same. It doesn’t escape her notice that he never turns the lights on in his bunk, not even once.

It makes her ache.

She’s _never_ seen him like this. Not ever. Not even on the 10th anniversary of the Purge, when he got blackout drunk and cried on her shoulder for two hours, rambling about how badly he disappointed his master. Usually, when something’s hurting him, he lets her in after a little while, but this… his silence is something new entirely. For the first time, she has no idea how to help him, and it scares the hell out of her. 

It’s been ten days since he left his room for longer than five minutes. Hera’s trying not to obsess over it, but she’s so worried she can barely sleep. Part of her wonders if he can feel it permeating the Ghost, or if he even bothered to check. 

She’s seen Kanan cut himself off from the Force once before, in the early days. It was soon after she found out his secret, but it was only because of some misguided attempt to keep her safe. If he’s doing it again… she has to find out how to help him, and soon. 

Not to mention, she _misses him_. She misses curling up next to him at the end of a long day, she misses his steady presence beside her during mission briefings… stars, she just misses seeing him smile. She hasn’t gone this long without seeing that smile in a long time. 

It’s late in the day. Zeb, Sabine, and Ezra are off-planet, on a supply run with some of the other pilots. It’s just the two of them, for the first time in a while. In normal circumstances, they’d be finding more… _pleasurable_ ways to pass the time, but now she just wants to be here in case he needs something. 

Hera’s in the cockpit, finishing up a diagnostic on the internal comm systems, when suddenly she hears a muffled _bang_. It’s faint, and for a moment she thinks she only imagined it. Then she hears a muffled swear, from a voice she hasn’t heard in days. 

She’s on her feet in a heartbeat, rushing out of the cockpit and towards the source of the sound. She finds him bracing one hand against the wall, rubbing his shin with the other. He looks… well, about as good as anyone who’s been locked in one room for days would look. The bandages are finally gone from his eyes, and she still hasn’t gotten used to the milky white color. His beard is messy, unkept, but it’s not like he can see to keep it even now. He’s wearing an old pair of pajama pants, and she can see how much thinner he’s gotten as her eyes skim down his bare chest. Like he’s not eating. 

_Oh, Kanan._

“Love?” 

He glances up, head twisting and looking for the source of the sound. It makes her insides clench uncomfortably, the way his whole body tenses as he tries to figure out where she is. 

She sees him swallow. “Hi.” It’s soft, his voice coming out hoarse from disuse. It makes her happier than she’s been all week. “Sorry, I… tripped.” And there’s so much pain in that small statement that it breaks her heart all over again. 

“It’s okay.” She makes her way over to him, resting a hand on his arm gently. She doesn’t miss the way his entire body seems to curl towards her, and she feels her heart shudder again. “Did you need something?” 

Kanan sighs, his shoulders drooping. “I don’t know,” he mumbles, and she feels her frown deepen. “I just– I needed some air.” 

That brings a hopeful smile to her face. If he’s starting to get restless, that’s a good sign. She doesn’t want to push him, not when this is the most time she’s spent with him since he left for Malachor, but… “It’s a really nice night outside,” she murmurs softly. “There shouldn’t be too many people around right now.” She remembers how uncomfortable he was, as they made their way to the medbay when he first got back. He said he could _feel_ the stares, even though he couldn’t see them. 

Hera reaches down to grab his hand, twining her fingers with his. The tiny, almost imperceptible smile he gives her makes her feel a little less hollow inside. “That… yeah. That sounds nice.” His voice is still small, but there’s a little more confidence to it. 

“C’mon, go get dressed. I’ll be right here.” 

“I, uh. I can’t–”

 _Oh, kriff. Right._ “Okay. Alright, I’ll find you something.” She notices the way his chin tilts downward and his bottom lip trembles, like he’s a second away from crumbling into tiny pieces right in front of her. There’s a lump in her throat that refuses to leave as she pulls out a shirt and pants for him. She squeezes his hand again as she hands them to him. “I’ll be right outside.”

She turns to leave, but she’s surprised when Kanan reaches to grab her hand again, pulling her back. “Hera?” 

It makes her breath hitch, to hear him say her name. “Hmm?” She doesn’t trust herself to say anything more. 

For a moment he’s silent, staring in her general direction with unseeing eyes. Then he deflates, sighing deeply as his head tilts downward again. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

That tiny voice is so unlike him, so opposite to his usual confident drawl that it almost breaks her. “ _Hey,_ ” she says. “Don’t be sorry. I’m just glad to see you up and moving again.” She leans up to kiss his cheek, and he perks up ever-so-slightly. “Come on, get dressed.”

He emerges from his cabin a few minutes later. His hair is still hanging loose, but his face is cleaner and he doesn’t look quite so pale. He looks almost back to normal, except for the scar across his eyes. 

She laces her arm through his, and she smiles at the way he leans into the touch. They’re mostly silent as they make their way through the ship, until they come to the ladder and she has to let him go. He manages surprisingly well, listening to her guide him as he climbs down. 

When they get to the exit ramp, Hera notices how tense he is, and she takes his arm again as the walkway descends. She sighs as the breeze hits her face, and as she glances at him she sees that tiny smile again.

They make their way off of the ship, still mostly quiet. Both of them are enjoying the silence, and Hera’s just happy that he’s letting her be near him again. But there’s a tension here, too, a vivid reminder that this isn’t like any other walk they’ve been on together. This is different, and it’ll _always_ be different now. 

Still, she’s not going to begrudge him this, not when it’s the first time he’s actually gotten out of bed since he and Ezra left Ahsoka in that temple. 

She starts talking as they walk through the base, mumbling about improvements they’re making and telling him how the progress is coming along. She’s moving closer and closer to him, too, until she’s practically tucked against his side as they make their way through the night.

Little by little, she feels him relax. He starts murmuring little grunts of assent as she talks, and eventually he starts adding words in every so often too. She even manages to make him laugh, once. 

They meander through the base, moving slowly and aimlessly. It really is a gorgeous night out, and even though Hera’s still unbelievably worried about him, she can’t help but think about how long it’s been since they had a moment to themselves like this. She leans her head lightly against his shoulder, smiling when he doesn’t flinch away. 

The deep rumble of his voice startles her. “This is nice,” he says, in that small voice. He sounds happier, though.

“It is. Breeze feels good after being stuck on the ship all this time.”

She feels him sigh. “I’m sorry. Don’t stay cooped up just because of me–you hate that.” That sad edge to his voice is back. 

“I don’t mind, love. I… I wanna help.”

“You are,” he says, with a kind of raw honesty. “Just being there helps. Tell me–” He hesitates. “Tell me what the sky looks like?” 

Hera swallows back the lump in her throat, nodding against his shoulder. It’s crystal clear, and the stars twinkle brightly in between the shapes of Atollon’s moons. She tells him as much, doing her best to describe everything as richly as she can, and he gives her another small smile. 

They’re almost back to the Ghost, now. They’ve walked around the whole base, mostly undisturbed except for a few personnel working on some of the X-Wings. They’re still not widely-recognized around the base, and right now she’s glad for it. She doesn’t want to have to field any uncomfortable questions.

They’re almost back to the ship, when they walk past a group of three pilots chatting amicably. She tenses slightly, and Kanan notices. “What’s up?” 

“Nothing.” No need to make him worry. “We’re almost home. Ghost is up ahead.” 

“Alright.” From the way he sucks in a breath, she knows he notices the low voices coming from their right. He hasn’t been around anyone except the Ghost crew in a while, and she isn’t sure he’s ready for it. But he doesn’t say anything, just lets her guide him forward. 

They’re nearly out of earshot when Hera hears a low laugh coming from behind them. “What’s the Rebellion need with a _blind guy_?” 

Hera freezes, going rigid as she turns to glare at the source of the sound. She stalks towards the group of pilots, and now she recognizes them as Phoenix Squadron’s newest recruits. The glare on her face could melt kyber. 

“How _dare you?_ ” she yells. “What the _fuck_ gives you the right?” 

All three of them are standing at attention, and Hera notices the bottle of Correllian brandy sitting between them. “Sorry, Captain,” one of them mumbles, clearly recognizing her now that she’s yelling in their faces. 

“Oh, don’t you _sorry, Captain_ me. _None_ of you are getting anywhere _near_ an X-Wing, you hear me?” She points behind her in Kanan’s general direction. “That man has done more for this Rebellion than any of you _ever_ will, and so help me, I’ll see that you spend the next year on janitorial duty. You’re all demoted down to private, effective immediately.”

“But Captain–” It’s the one who made the statement, and Hera shuts him up with another icy glare that she’s pretty sure even an Inquisitor would flinch away from. 

“No buts. You’re lucky I don’t have you court-martialed for insubordination.” She can’t actually do that, but they don’t need to know that. 

She turns back towards the Ghost, and one look at Kanan’s face makes tears well up in her eyes. 

His frown spreads across his whole face, his mouth slightly open and his bottom lip trembling a little. His hands are shoved in his pockets and his head is tilted towards the floor, hair dropping to fall across his face. He looks like someone shot him in the stomach, like getting out of bed today is the worst mistake he ever made. And Hera’s _livid_ again, because it’s not fair, the way the galaxy loves to kick him when he’s down. When he’s _just_ starting to come back to himself again.

Swallowing down her own emotions, she puts a hand on his shoulder again. “Come on, love. Let’s get home.” 

Kanan doesn’t say a word the whole way back to the ship, but she can feel the way he’s shaking. Pain is radiating from his every pore, and she hates that she can’t wipe it away. 

Finally, they make it to his bunk. That horribly sad look is still on his face, and Hera _hates_ it. She doesn’t know what to say; he was doing _so_ well, too.

Hera gently rests a hand on his knee. “Kanan?” When he doesn’t say anything, she keeps going, keeping her voice soft. “I’m sorry. They were out of line.”

He’s silent for another beat. Then he lets out a tiny hitching sob that tears her to shreds, and it breaks the dam. The tears spill over and his whole body curls forward as he cries. And it’s _heartbreaking_ to watch; he’s practically disintegrating before her eyes and she’s powerless to stop it. 

“ _Oh_ , love, c’mere,” There are tears in her eyes as she clambers into his lap, knees on either side of his legs as she guides his head onto her chest. He wraps his arms around her back, clinging to her like she’s the only thing tethering him to reality as his cries get louder. His whole body is trembling, shaking so badly she’s half-worried he’s going to splinter apart. She wonders how many times he’s broken down like this in the dark, without anyone there to help him. 

She runs her fingers through his hair, murmuring against his ear that _you’re okay, love, I’m here, it’s gonna be okay,_ but his arms tighten around her even more and she doesn’t know if he believes it. He doesn’t say a word, just lets the tears fall, lets her hold him until he’s mostly spent and only lets out the occasional hitching breath against her chest. 

Hera lost the battle against her own tears halfway through, and she’s pressing kisses against every part of him she can reach. “Tell me what I can do,” she says, kissing the top of his head. She’s happy to let him cling to her if that’s what he needs, but she aches to do something more for him. 

Eventually, he sighs, squeezing her closer but not moving his head from where it rests. “They’re _right_ , Hera.” His voice is tiny, hoarse from the tears and just as small as his murmured greeting earlier. 

“They are _not_ .” And now she’s angry again, because _fucking damn the galaxy_ for constantly making Kanan Jarrus think he’s worth next to nothing.

He shakes his head where it’s still buried in her neck. “I’m a liability now,” he says. “I can’t help you anymore. I can’t do _anything_.” The last sentence comes out as a whisper. “I can’t even get dressed by myself.”

“Stop.” Hera’s close to tears again. She’s used to his perpetual self-doubt, but this… this is something she doesn’t know how to fix. She’s not sure it’s something she _can_ fix. She pulls back to frame his face in her hands, and the raw pain there is buried so deep she doesn’t know if she’ll ever be able to take it away. But she has to try. He rests his fingertips against her face lightly, staring at her with sightless eyes. “You’re not an invalid, Kanan, you know that. You got hurt, but you’ll adjust.” She smiles, guiding his hands so he can feel it. “And love, do you really think all I care about is what you can do for the Rebellion?”

His head tilts downwards. “That’s why you brought me on in the first place,” Kanan whispers. “Crew. Not a travelling companion.” He’s repeating her words from all those years ago, and the doubt in his voice makes her freeze. She thought she was being careful, all these years, careful to balance her heart and her commitment to the fight. But… could he really _still_ doubt what he means to her, after all this time?

Frowning, she brings his face to hers, her lips finding his. He melts into it at first, before she feels the tension come back into his shoulders and he starts to pull away. She doesn’t let him, pulling him close and resting her forehead against his. 

“I love you, vision or not. You hear me?” She kisses the tip of his nose softly. “I don’t care if you can’t ‘help me’ anymore. I’m not going anywhere without you, not ever.” 

He wraps her in a hug again, and his _I love you, too_ is muffled by her shoulder. He’s still trembling, but it’s less violent now.

For a moment they just stay there, holding each other and listening to the steady beating of the other’s heart. Kanan’s breathing is getting a bit more even, and he’s finally starting to relax as she keeps murmuring soft words of encouragement into his ear. She tells him she loves him, that it’s going to be okay, that he’s the strongest person she’s ever met in her life and he’ll be back on his feet soon. And it’s true; there’s no one else in the galaxy who could have survived what he did and still have the biggest and brightest heart in the universe. 

He whispers back, that he’s _terrified_ , that he doesn’t know how to do this and even with his Force abilities he doesn’t think he’ll ever be the same. He tells her every ugly thought that’s been running through his head for the past week and a half, every dirty moment of self-loathing he’s been torturing himself with. 

And she _hates_ that the galaxy hurt him yet again, that just when he was starting to feel a little bit like himself again something knocked him back down to the floor, but part of her is just happy that he’s letting her in. She can’t take away the pain he’s in. She can’t give him his vision back. But she can hold him, and be there for him through it all. He’s so strong, but right now she can lend her strength to his, for a little while. 

From the way he whispers a soft _thank you, I love you_ against her skin, filled with so much utter reverence that she wants to capture the statement in a bottle and keep it forever, maybe that’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on twitter @targaryenjedii and tell me how much you liked this fic!


End file.
